Come to the Dark Side We have HIM
by Michelle Black a.k.a Elle
Summary: Michelle Black, has always been in love with Draco Malfoy, One day she meets the head honcho himself and she has to give up her whole life and friends for the man that she loves,to protect him. SET IN SIXTH YEAR!


_**Disclaimer:**** I, Michelle Black a.k.a Elle, don't own the Harry Potter series. That privilege belongs to J.K. Rowling who created this . . . work of art.**_

**Thanks to beta,**_Lizzy Lovegood._** Your awesome!**

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**Come to the Dark Side, We Have _Him_**

"Oi, Black!" As I made to go into the Hall, I turned to see Blaise Zabini waving frantically at me.

"Um . . . excuse me for a second." Waving to Ginny, I turned, sauntering over to where Blaise stood. Stopping a few feet from him – after all, one can't be too careful – I craned my neck to look up at the tall Slytherin.

"What do you want, Zabini?"

"Someone wants to talk to you," he said quietly, scanning the crowds leaving the Great Hall, just incase anyone were watching us. I stared at him for a moment, raising a questioning eyebrow and hoping he would expand on the whole thing.

He just stared right back.

With a great sigh, I nodded my farewell. "Goodbye, Zabini." And, turning on my heel, I began to walk back to Ginny, standing by the large main doors.

"Wait! Hey, Black, wait!" called Blaise.

I kept walking, grinning at Ginny. She grinned back; it was always fun to taunt Blaise.

"Michelle!" he yelled in exasperation. Stopping quite suddenly, I motioned for Ginny to go on without me. Still smirking, I turned to face Blaise, waiting for him to catch up.

"What?" I asked, arms crossed over my chest, a slight frown playing around my lips.

"Why did you leave?" Over six feet tall to my pitiful five-foot-four, he did look quite imposing. Nevertheless, I baited him.

"Well. . . ." I began, tapping my finger to my chin in a thoughtful way. "For a start, you told me that _someone _wanted to talk to me, but didn't even see fit to tell me their name! What – you expect me to be excited?" I watched Zabini roll his eyes, cursing under his breath . . . maybe at his own stupidity. I couldn't disagree with him on that count.

"Sorry," he grumbled finally, "it's just . . . I can't really tell you his name, but he's very interested in you. He'd really like to meet you." I could see he was attempting to keep his face expressionless, yet his eyes were filled with excitement nonetheless.

"Alright," I said, "I'll bite. Why is this mysterious someone so interested in me, then?"

"Because, Black."

"_Because_? That's all you've got for me?"

He sighed in irritation and ran a hand through his dark hair, before looking back down at me. "Look, Michelle, I'm just the messenger. I don't really know why. All I know is, is that you're important and that he wants to meet you. Very, _very _badly."

I didn't answer him straightaway, I couldn't. Instead, I began to study the giant squid, propelling itself lazily across the lake as I contemplated my options. _Options? There are only a couple of options, Michelle – should you go or shouldn't you?_

_Why not go? It could be fun. . . . _Just as I began to nod, my logical side made itself heard.

_Michelle, are you crazy, it might be dangerous! You could be killed!_

_Oh, shut up. It might not be. In fact . . . you might even benefit from it._

_And that might not happen, either. What if it's dangerous, you could put your friends in danger – or worse!_

_Yeah, but you'll never know if you don't go. It might not be dangerous, it might even be fun. In fact, it probably is! Go!_

"When?"

Blaise's expectant eyes gleamed with pleasure at the simple word; in fact, he seemed to visibly relax. "Hogsmeade weekend," he replied, just as shortly.

I nodded my head, but stopped quite abruptly as something occurred to me.

"What is it?"

"What will I tell the others? My friends?"

"That you have a date." He shrugged, ever nonchalant.

"Who?" I narrowed my eyes at him and he grinned crookedly.

"Me." Rolling my eyes, I nodded and headed for the doors, ready to follow Ginny. As I reached them, I yelled back to him, as casually as I could.

"Hey, where is it?"

"Outside of Hogsmeade. You'll see, I'll take you there." Once again, I nodded – rather more shaky than the last – and kept walking.

"Hey, where were you?" Harry asked as I seated myself next to Ginny. Hermione nodded along with her friend, looking curious; Ron, meanwhile barely spared me a glance. I knew I wouldn't get a single intelligible word out of him with food around.

"Oh, just talking to a friend," I said casually, waving a hand as if it were nothing. Harry nodded and went back to eating while Hermione buried her nose in her book. Only Ginny's eyes were sympathetic and I sent her a grateful look. God knows Harry wouldn't have been too happy to know I had been conversing with one of Malfoy's best friends.

"Hey, Ginny, why don't you join us for Hogsmeade?" Hermione invited. Ginny, however, shook her head.

"Sorry, I can't. I'm going with Dean." Vaguely, I watched Harry's face turn from casual to pained as he looked at Ginny. Hermione sent me a knowing look as she nodded toward Harry.

"Actually, guys," I said, cutting Ron off as he meant to express his opinion on his 'baby sister's' boyfriend. "I can't go either. I have a date, too."

"Who with?" Harry asked, surprise clearly written on his face.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Who are you going with?" he repeated, looking suspicious.

"_Oh_ . . . it's no one." I shook my head, attempting a casual laugh.

"Come on, Michelle, who is it?" Hermione asked patiently.

"Erm . . . Blaise Zabini." I said the words as quickly as I could, hoping Harry wouldn't have time to catch them. By his fierce expression, I assumed that he had. Wincing, I braced myself for the explosion that was sure to come.

"WHAT?!" Ron yelled, face as red as his hair.

"Shh, Ron! Do you want to let the whole Hall know?" I whispered furiously, giving curious onlookers an apologetic smile. "Relax, it's not like I'm dating Draco Malfoy." _Unfortunately. . . . _Turning back to Ron, I saw his face slowly returning to its' normal hue.

"Yeah . . . but he's still from Slytherin!" Ron continued indignantly. Harry, who was forking a sizable slice of treacle tart onto his plate, nodded in agreement, though I noticed he didn't really seem to care. _Of course if it was Malfoy, he'd blow a fuse._

"So what?" I demanded. "I dated Heath Weatherly and you guys didn't complain if I remember correctly."

"Yeah, that was because he was a Hufflepuff, _not _a Slytheirn!" Ron wasn't showing any signs of stopping; his apple pie lay forgotten. Closing my eyes, I sighed deeply before reopening them, ready for battle.

"Look, I know he's in Slytherin, but that doesn't mean he's evil! He's a really sweet guy and I'm going on _one _date with him. It's not as if we're actually – you know – _dating_. Besides, even if I was, you couldn't stop me. You're not my father, you're just my friend. You can't control me and _I'm _the one going on this date, _not _you." Then, standing up, I exited the Great Hall, leaving my stunned friends behind me.

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"Hey there." A soft voice in my ear startled me; I whirled around to face the perpetrator, wand at the ready.

"Hey, calm down, it's just me!" Blaise exclaimed, raising both hands in surrender. With a sigh of relief, I lowered my wand, before placing it back in my belt.

"Sorry 'bout that. It's just . . . I don't like people sneaking up on me, like . . . _ever_. You can seriously hurt yourself."

"Right. I'll remember that," he said, saluting me. I attempted to look serious, but quickly lost that battle. Soon, we were both laughing and joking around, talking about everything and nothing at all – from the Bulgarians chances in the next World Cup to what was better Sugar Quills or Chocolate Frogs. _Chocolate all the way, baby! _

I could have gone on forever like this but soon – almost too soon – we had passed the Hog's Head, the tavern that marked the end of the peaceful little town. However, as I squinted, I was able to spot a ramshackle little shop. It was old and looked as if it hadn't been inhabited for quite some time. The front windows were covered with cobwebs and dust and as Blaise opened the door, it made an ominous creak. I couldn't help but shiver, but – at Blaise's concerned look – smiled in thanks and walked into the small, dark room. Blaise had barely stepped in behind me when the door shut with a loud snap. I couldn't help myself, I screamed.

Rushing to the door, unheeding of Blaise's strong arms around me, I began banging on the door, screaming for help. Panic overcame me and I became still more desperate, clawing and scratching at the Slytherin boy in an attempt to get loose. _He's gonna kill me . . . he's gonna kill me. . . . No, Michelle, there has to be a reason for this! Calm yourself!_ With a couple of deep breaths, I was able to step from the door and slow my frantic heart.

"Michelle, calm. . . ." I didn't even hear the rest of what Blaise said; taking my wand from my belt, I pointed it at the door. "_Alohomora!_" I stated confidently.

The door didn't budge. Shrugging, I forced myself to stay calm as I cast _Lumos_, lighting up the area around me. A mere instant later, I wished I hadn't. Screaming, I dropped my wand in fright, extinguishing all light in the dim room. _Well, at least I won't have to see . . . that._

"Miss Black, sit," a voice crooned from the dark, the same voice that had invaded my nightmares so many times before, a voice that I had never wanted to hear. Shaking, I felt something big brush against my legs, hissing to its' master and I squeaked in fright.

"I don't believe that was a request Miss Black." The voice sounded more menacing now. "_Sit._" Shakily, I guided myself to a chair and, an instant later, light flooded the room, rather than the dark that I so wanted to hide this monstrosity. Yet, clear as day, there he sat. Twenty Death Eaters surrounded him while a large snake lay curled on the hearthrug at his feet. He-Who-Must-Be-Mental, the head honcho himself, Lord Voldemort.

"Good," he said, nodding at me. "Now, to business, Miss Black. I have heard interesting things about you. Many of my followers have told me how powerful you are. I refused to believe it until last year." He paused – more for dramatic effect than anything, I think – staring at me with those frightening red eyes of his and yet . . . I couldn't look away. Finally, he began to speak again, eyes blazing.

"When you, Potter, and your friends broke into the Ministry and fought off my Death Eaters before your Order came . . . most of my followers were injured or incapacitated. And that magic you displayed when your father was killed by Bellatrix . . . _very _powerful. I'm impressed."

A woman's cackling allowed me to pry my eyes from his and see that, next to him, stood the murderess herself, Bellatrix Lestrange. Hatred coursed through my body as she threw me an evil smile.

"Miss Black," Voldemort continued, "I would like you to join my ranks." His thin lips formed into what should have been a smile, but came out more as a leer.

"No." I spoke without hesitation.

"Miss Black, be sensible. Dumbledore and his pathetic little Order are losing. I, meanwhile, am the clear victor in this battle. I can give you anything you desire."

"I highly doubt that. You're not God. Open the door, I'm not about to become one of your precious servants," I said acidly. Pushing my chair back from me with unusual force, I grabbed my wand from the floor, ready to simply blast the door down.

The Darkest of all Dark Lords, however, appeared quite unperturbed. Instead, he stroked his chin, thoughtful. "What about Draco?" he asked.

I froze, before turning to face him, fighting to keep my face expressionless. "What about him?"

"Are you really going to leave him to die when he fails in the mission I set for him? You know he will fail, Michelle, don't deny it."

A lump gathered in my throat as he forced me to meet his malicious red eyes with my own hazel ones.

"Yes, Draco is a Death Eater." He answered my unspoken question. "Join me and I will give you Draco."

Tears threatened to spill as I realized I didn't have a choice. This entire thing had been a trap – I had never had a choice, not a real one, anyway – I had to join him if I wanted to live. Of course, Harry and the others would find out sooner or later and they would think I had betrayed them . . . that my 'date' with Blaise had really been my rite of passage. I would lose them.

_It'll be worth it in the end though, _I consoled myself. _When Harry defeats Voldemort, you'll be able to explain things to them . . . what really happened _and _you'll have Draco, too. It'll all be okay._

"Alright," I said shakily, feeling hot tears slide down my cheeks. "Okay, I'll join you." With an evil smile, Voldemort flicked his wand and with a dull _click_, the door swung open.

"I won't put a Mark on you yet. I don't want the Order to be suspicious," he explained. "You may go, Michelle, but always – _always –_ remember your duty to me." Nodding shakily – reluctantly – I left the room into the cold. Snow was falling now; it might be a white Christmas after all. . . .

"So . . . how was it?" Blaise asked, excited as a puppy. I looked up to face him and his eyes widened, obviously shocked by the pain that shone through my eyes."Michelle? Michelle, what's wrong?" He took my hands in his to warm them. Growling, I tore them away.

"I. Hate. You!" That was all I managed to choke out before I began to run. I ran until sweat poured down my face – even in this cold weather – until I couldn't breathe, until I had to clutch a stitch in my side. I knew I had left Blaise far behind, but I didn't care. I couldn't run from the commitment I had just made. . . . Finally, I collapsed in a heap at the edge of the lake. I barely felt the cold rushing through my bones, I could only cry my heart out as memories upon memories played through my head.

_DA meetings . . . the Burrow . . . Mr. And Mrs. Weasley . . . the World Cup . . . losing all my friends. . . ._

"Oh God!" I sobbed, burying my face in my hands. "Oh God, oh God, oh God. . . ." _What have I done?_

_Don't worry, Michelle. It'll all be worth it in the end,_ said that same, annoying little voice.

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_**A well-rounded critique is often the most rewarding gift a reader can give . Please use this golden opportunity to offer well-deserved praise and/or tips for improvement.**_


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